


More Complicated

by The_Exile



Category: Star Ocean: The Second Story | Second Evolution
Genre: Bunnies, Bunnies on fire, Consensual Kink, Cooking, Creepy Fluff, Fire, M/M, Mild Language, Mind Blast, Morbid humour, Sensation Play, Spicule, Tea, character origin speculation, creepy Shigeo, cruelty to Bunnies, cruelty to Cyril, cruelty to party members, incendiary lagomorphs, serious moments, temporarily averted Apocalypse, tpk, with an extra helping of Spicule
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-15
Updated: 2014-12-15
Packaged: 2018-03-01 14:57:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2777354
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Exile/pseuds/The_Exile
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The battle against Decus and Vesper goes about as well as it usually does, so Indalecio lets the Ten Wise Men all go on dinner break early. Decus decides to make everyone a nice cup of tea and cook a meal for them. Vesper shares a funny story with Shigeo that turns into an argument with Cyril, then, later, a confession from Ruprecht. Just as everyone thinks it's safe to go back to normal, Shigeo's custom food order causes a horrible catastrophe.</p>
            </blockquote>





	More Complicated

“Aren't you guys cold?”

Cyril reflexively twitched when he heard Decus' loud, high-pitched, grating voice, interspersed with slightly deranged laughter. Vesper concealed a grin at his direct superior's nervous reaction. Something about Decus really freaked out Cyril. He would have to find out what exactly it was, and encourage it.

“I will warm you up to your bones!” declared Decus.

“No Spiculing at the dinner table!” snapped Cyril without looking up from his laptop. He had brought his work to the table again. Cyril was always overworked lately, what with Indalecio being so close to finishing the project, so he didn't really have proper lunch breaks.

“Eh? Speak up! Did you say Spicule? Sorry, but I'm too busy right now. I have made everyone a nice cup of tea!” he announced rather more dramatically than the occasion called for.

The large, stocky redhead in the black greatcoat emerged from the kitchen carrying a large tray full of steaming cups of tea. Ruprecht, Nicolus and Jibril's table was closest to the door, so Decus handed Ruprecht his cup first.

The youngest-looking, purple-haired Wise Man inspected his tea, then looked up at Decus's grinning, half-skeletal, permanently-on-fire face, “Um... sorry to bother you, Decus... how long did you leave the tea bag in?”

“Why, don't you think it's very strong?”

“Not everyone likes it that strong, Decus. If you overbrew tea, other people will think it tastes like machine oil.”

“Oh? Yes, my mistake. This is Berle's machine oil,” Decus took the cup back and handed it to the cyborg, who accepted it wordlessly and resumed his repair work without comment. He had chosen to sit alone so he could make some much-needed adjustments and reinforcements to his mechanical parts during his dinner break while he had time to sit and relax, where nobody would mind him taking up the entire table with his tools. Berle didn't really enjoy socialising anyway, he only came to dinner so he wouldn't be caught apart from Shigeo and Marsilio and asked to go on dangerous missions alone.

“That's a lot better, thank you,” said Ruprecht when he was handed the correct cup, but the beaming pyromaniac had already moved onto Vesper's table. His closest comrade was sitting with Shigeo and Marsilio, and they had been sharing a private joke that caused Shigeo to laugh uproariously.

Vesper took the tea from him, “Perfect. I'd expect you to know how I like my tea by now, though, what with all the night shifts we're pulling.”

“No taking unnecessary tea breaks while on guard!” snapped Cyrus.

“Um... pardon me, but I asked you to serve it to me in the skull of my fallen enemy,” said Shigeo, holding the macabre vessel in one hand and pointing to the underside in the other, “See the shape of these contusions and abrasions? This is definitely a Marsilio kill.”

“Shigeo... I've got a confession to make... I've been attributing some of my kills to you on the reports. I know how much your kill count means to me, and you contribute so much to the battle, I know I can be somewhat of a killsteal sometimes...” Marsilio blushed, especially when Shigeo grabbed the big man into a tight, heavily cybernetic embrace.

“Aww, you big softy! You shouldn't have!”

“No falsifying reports!” Cyril buried his head further into the glare of his laptop screen, as if trying not to look at the slow, inevitable disaster taking place all around him. His mouth moved as he read the screen, desperately trying to concentrate.

“Hey, Decus, guess what. I told Shigeo the story of the funny thing that happened today!” Vesper told him. 

“About the intruders we had in the upper level? I'm sorry for ruining both the statues,” said Decus, “They were good quality as well.”

“It's fine, I promise, I'll go and acquire some more for the collection tomorrow,” said Vesper. He had used Mind Blast to petrify three of the interlopers, but the fourth was escaping, so Decus snapped the arm off the third and beat the fourth to death with it just as his hand reached the door handle. It was good to see Shigeo and, for that matter, Decus smile, but Vesper wished the cyborg scout wouldn't teach his companion weird habits.

“Okay, time for the main course!” screeched Decus, causing Cyril, who had only just taken his tea, as tentatively as if it contained sleeping poisonous snakes, to flinch and splash some of the tea on his laptop. He swore softly in Old Nedian and wiped it off with a serviette. 

“So, Vesper, you ordered the Rotisserie Bunny, Cyril wanted the Bunny Flambé, Marsilio wanted the Barbecued Bunny, Jibril ordered Crispy Fried Bunny, Ruprecht and Nicolus wanted the Spicy Bunny Stew... Shigeo, how did you say you wanted you wanted yours prepared again?”

“I want to see my enemies struggle futilely and cry out in desperation as your flames consume them,” said Shigeo, “My enemies are Bunnies, by the way. Can't stand the twitchy-nosed little sods. It's funniest when you hold them up by the ears.”

“NO SPICULE at the DINNER TABLE or I'll shove a FIRE EXTINGUISHER up your NOSE!” screamed Cyril.

“Oh... okay... come on, Shigeo, you will have to stand in the kitchen. Marsilio may also come,” he announced, dragging the two lesser Wise Men out of the dining hall as he hummed the tune to 'Confidence in the Domination' under his breath in his refreshingly unique singing voice that reminded Vesper of an out-of-tune violin played by someone who only knew how to play high notes.

“I do like Decus' Bunny Stew!” commented Ruprecht to Vesper, “He really understands which spices subtly complement each other. The tea turned out well today, too.”

“He's a good cook. It's a hidden talent of his,” said Vesper, “I think it worked well to introduce him to a hobby that involved small, concentrated amounts of fire. He's so much better at controlling his powers now. I don't feel in mortal danger every time I take off my fireproof suit any more.”

“The dining room does seem to be intact this week as well,” said Ruprecht, “Cyril, don't you think it's an improvement? You seemed to enjoy your tea.”

Cyril glared up at Vesper, “I need to talk to you in a side room. Away from eavesdroppers. I'm sure we'll hear all about it when the food is done.”

“What's wrong, don't you like your tea?”

“It's an exquisitely perfect Earl Grey, and I was very fascinated by your little anecdote tonight,” he carefully lifted his teacup, closed his laptop and walked out of the room with both.

“The one where I killed four dangerous intruders? They were a serious threat, you know. I made it sound like it was over quickly, but we took heavy damage. Poor Decus exhausted himself healing us both afterwards.”

“I don't doubt your battle prowess,” said Cyrus, “I'm concerned about the part where Decus decided to pull some foolish stunt that involved running across the room to engage a fleeing opponent in melee, when he's perfectly capable of setting fire to the entire room within the space of a split second. What if the intruder had gotten out of the door? What if he had managed to reach for a Stone Cure? What if he had been a powerful healer and managed to revive all his comrades while you two were thinking of fun ways to kill him?”

“He wasn't that far away. I'm sure he was confident he could make it.”

“You're sure he was confident? But you don't know exactly for certain that he could? And he decided to do whatever amused him, yet again, instead of following standard procedure?” continued Cyrus, “You say he's learning to control his flame, but half the time, he appears to deliberately choose not to. You don't know what's going on in his head, do you? And yet, I thought that was the exact task I assigned to you.”

“My assignment, as given to me by Indalecio,” he put emphasis on his commander's name, hoping to convey that Cyrus did not have the final word on his actions, no matter how much everyone knew he wished he could be leader, “Is to guard the floor below yours. Something I am achieving.”

“But Decus' actions today jeopardised your mission,” said Cyril, “And you didn't seek to correct him.”

“Decus and I are equal rank. I don't have authority to officially correct him. That's your job, so I'm not sure why you never speak to him directly. And, for your information, I did manage to persuade him to let Nicolus take him apart and look around inside. It wasn't very enlightening, though. It mostly just raised more questions. We just found a lot of fire symbology runes and an old augmentation engine from a decommissioned starship symbology cannon.”

“So, he's a symbological weapon.”

“He's not a weapon. Weapons are powered by runes. The runes aren't attached to anything except the augmenter, and his life support systems. He's pretty much an experiment in living symbology,” said Vesper, “Ruprecht told him he's a fire elemental. He seems to like that explanation.”

“It would explain his unique appearance and mental state,” said Cyril.

“But it doesn't give us any clue how to further understand it, or do anything about how erratically it went. Anything we do to modify it might just deactivate him. And I'm no further towards understanding why he's sentient, never mind how his mind works. It's like asking me to psychoanalyse a symbological rune.”

“Maybe you should ask Indalecio for advice. He appears to spend all his time in a room with one,” Cyril commented dryly.

“You think so? Cyril,” he suddenly whispered in a low, dangerous tone, “I've heard all about how you speak of Indalecio behind his back. Behind everyone's backs. Decus told me all about it. He says you think he's too insane to notice you, but he overhears a lot of things. Like people's tastes in tea, or how your favourite insult is 'bug-ridden fool'. It rather upsets him. We're all prototypes, after all. We've all got obsolete technology of some kind or another in us somewhere, faults we can't quite iron out. Like his pyrokinesis needing a little fine tuning, or the rattling noise that Berle makes when he runs too fast, or your complete lack of loyalty.”

“Speak to me like that once more, and I'll have you both permanently exiled from Phynal.”

“You'd need Indalecio's permission for an action that drastic, and I doubt he'd agree with your decision to send away two of his most effective guards at a very crucial point in the project that could be utterly ruined by any interruptions. By the way, Cyril... I'm not a therapist. I'm a civilian re-education specialist,” said Vesper, “It's like being a therapist, except I don't have to keep up to date with all the nice, friendly, fluffy aspects of psychology. It doesn't stop me understanding Decus, though, because Decus mostly isn't very nice. If you don't believe me, you're always welcome to take up my invitation to have a nice little chat with him in private instead of me. Like I said, I think you've upset him.”

“... You know what? I don't really care any more,” said Cyril, “It won't be long until the project is completed, and after that, it won't matter. This Universe will be overwritten, and we'll be Gods incarnate, and that's when I'll show you true power. I just hope you don't break down too soon...”

Suddenly, Cyril was interrupted by a cacophony of chaos that included Decus screeching at the top of his voice, the clanging of various kitchen instruments rolling or being hurled around, laser weapons being fired on full burst and the whooshing sound of a conflagration that streamed down the corridor, causing a stream of superheated air to hurl Ruprecht away from the door.

“THE BUNNIES HAVE ESCAPED!” yelled Marsilio.

“BURN TO DEATH!” added Decus, in case Vesper had misinterpreted his intentions and thought he was trying to set the cute fluffy animals free in a sudden pang of compassion.

“Oh dear, I think they're headed towards the elevator to the upper floors. You'd better go and apprehend them, Vesper,” suggested Ruprecht.

“Ask him if he's managed to salvage any of the food. I don't really mind what I end up having,” said Nicolus.

“All of you go!” ordered Cyril, “Cover the entire tower! Split up and surround them, those things move too fast to chase. For Tria's sake, don't let them into Indalecio's room!”

“They'll get to your room first,” Ruprecht advised him, “They might be on fire.”

“Oh, Tria, I left the paperwork out as well!” Cyril spread out his arms and instantaneously teleported from the dining room to his office on the second to last floor.

“Come on, he's bound to have chased them into Cyril's room,” Vesper told Ruprecht, suppressing a smirk. They all ran out of the room together, then took branching paths, Berle and Jibril towards the lower floors, Nicolus to double-check the kitchen to see if the bunnies weren't just hiding in a cupboard or something, and incidentally if anything else edible had survived the repeated Spiculing, Vesper and Ruprecht to the upper floors. Ruprecht waited until the elevator door closed before he whispered to Vesper.

“You're in big trouble with Cyrus again, aren't you?”

“When are we not?” Vesper shrugged, “I don't want you trying to mess around with Cyrus, though. He's dangerous and you shouldn't trust him.”

“I know. I'm not an idiot,” said Ruprecht, “I agree with you, anyway. I think he's being unfair to Decus.”

“Thank you...”

“I've seen how you two practice controlling his flame. I've seen how careful he can be. He's even quite gentle, when he's worried about hurting something important to him.”

Vesper hadn't even looked remotely surprised when the kitchen exploded into flames and Bunnies, but now, for the first time, he was lost for words. A slight blush washed over his olive-skinned, angular features and he stared at the elevator control panel with a feigned sudden interest in its design. His suspicions had been confirmed: Ruprecht had seen them. 

It had been a quiet night, one of the few days off that Indalecio ever let them have any more. He had assumed they were all busy sleeping in, or losing to Ruprecht at VR games, or disguising themselves as ordinary mortals and sneaking into Fun City for a drink. When Ruprecht opened the door, he had been stripped to the waist, and Decus had been running a finger down his chest in intricate patterns while whispering nonsensically into his ear and laughing at a joke only he, and allegedly one of the Bunnies in the statue collection, understood, his gaze somewhere between rapt concentration and Triadic possession. He had managed to suppress the flame down to almost nonexistence – Vesper knew that extinguishing it entirely was spiritually painful for Decus, and anyway, there was something about the tiny blue flame that sent a shiver down his spine and seared an impression into his consciousness. The slight pain and the mark it left on his skin made Vesper feel alive, made him really notice the other man's presence, his own immediate presence in a world that would soon be fading like a mildly confusing dream if Indalecio had his way. It had a profound effect on the other man, too – his voice sounded softer, less erratic, and the expression on his face was one that Vesper had only otherwise ever seen on him mid-Spicule. Decus always healed him up afterwards, but Vesper remembered where all the marks were with a clarity that made him suspect they were at least partially runic, and that whatever was happening to him might not be purely emotional in nature.

Evidently, the excuse that Vesper had noticed some loose circuitry in his cybernetic parts and Decus had been soldering them back together for him, hadn't worked. Ruprecht probably knew that Vesper's augmentations were in his arms, legs and the back of his head, and that Decus wouldn't be trying to solder fine circuitry with a tool as large and imprecise as his fingers, and besides, Ruprecht wasn't really a child. 

“The teacups, I mean. These are very expensive china, you know, irreplaceable antiques, and they're very fragile. Hey, why are you lagging behind?” Ruprecht flashed him a devious grin, then ran down the corridor.

“I can Mind Blast you from here!” warned Vesper, racing after the retreating, giggling fellow Wise Man. Then their game was interrupted by a very loud siren and a very panicked-sounding announcement over the intercom.

“All hands to the Control Room at once! This is an emergency! I'm infested by what appear to be incendiary lagomorphs! I'm outnumbered, and I'm desperately trying to protect the more delicate apparatus. I repeat, this is an emergency!”

Vesper picked up the pace. In Cyril's room, he saw the Wise Men second-in-command sobbing in the middle of his devastated office. He was almost at the elevator to Indalecio's room when he heard a second voice over the intercom, so loud that it was distorted.

“DON'T WORRY, MISTER INDALECIO, SIR, I SHALL SAVE YOU!”

“DECUS, NO, NOT NEAR THE CONTROLS, PLEASE...” screamed Indalecio, but he was cut off by one word, as soul-chillingly terrifying but inevitable to the Wise Men as death was to lesser mortals.

“SPICULE!” there was a jubilation to Decus' voice.

Indalecio's rather un-majestic response to the situation was swiftly drowned out by a second Spicule, then a third. Vesper wasn't sure what to do. They had technically succeeded in their mission: the Bunnies probably would not have survived, unless they managed to double back on themselves, in which case Vesper was better off staying where he was so he could intercept them. At least Ruprecht had found something more immediately interesting than teasing Vesper about his secrets. In the grand scale of things, his private life probably wasn't all that interesting. Everyone had secrets, and it couldn't possibly be any worse than whatever Shigeo and Marsilio got up to when they weren't looking.


End file.
